A Stalker's Schedule
by Stardust.Snowflakes.Ashes
Summary: Sophie has a stalker, but nobody believes her. He'll tail her everywhere, and it's become a nightmare. Sophie/Younger!SchoolMaster AU


**A stalker's schedule**

**S**ophie has a stalker, but nobody believes her. He'll tail her everywhere, and it's become a nightmare.

At first it was subtle, and honestly she couldn't care less for the fellow. Soon the long dark shadows behind her weren't the only ones that followed. Her footsteps choruses another person's, and they stop when she does: She chooses to ignore them, though before long there are cracks on her windows.

She paid little attention to many things, among them this eerie guy, so soon she thought it child's play and left things as they were, not wanting to know why.

Last Monday she lost her pen; she didn't mind, no, not Sophie, and not then.

Then came Tuesday, and her book was gone; she borrowed a friend's until class was done.

Wednesday came and went: She thought her phone was taken, yet was reunited with it again: She found it in her locker. She knew it's suspicious, though didn't bother.

What came after could've been a disaster; she had thrice as much notifications as the day before from an unknown number; she received thirty-seven calls from a stranger.

At the eve of Friday a pattern was noticed, and, freaked out, she brought friends wherever she went, even when classes were dismissed.

This peculiar Friday night, however, nothing is missing, yet something is stolen.

Her first kiss; from the thief who broke in.

To nobody she'll tell this horrible, terrible secret. Not her friends, family nor her parents.

"Did you lose anything?"

_Nothing_.

"What did he come here for?"

_I have no idea._

"Are you okay?"

…_Yes._

One of them isn't true. For Sophie, lying to her parents is a hard thing to do. Sweat trickles down her face as she turns to her worried father fully, heart pounding at a fast pace.

_You have nothing to worry about._

As their castor flees the shadows melt into the darkness, intentions nothing but of malice.

…

A few days later, she was woken up at dawn by loud barking. A seemingly stray puppy wound up at her porch, crying. It had no collar, and decidedly no owner. She smiled at the furry, fat creature, informed her parents, and named him Ginger.

Every day at school that week, there was a different gift waiting for her hidden everywhere she stayed the most frequently.

Tuesday morning a stuffed panda rested atop her desk.

Wednesday midday a box of chocolates was wedged between books in her locker.

Thursday noon a trail of roses that blanketed the whole street started from the school's quadrangle and led her straight to her house.

It is Friday. She has a feeling, but does nothing…

She doesn't make a move, nor know what to say.

At Monday it was before sunrise; Tuesday, before class; Wednesday, lunchtime; Thursday, right after school…She has figured the stalker out, of that nobody can doubt.

A hulk of blackness slinks its way down the street, dodging light with nimble feet.

Down and under the shadow crawls, lying hidden in the fog's wispy jaws. The moon provides the light any predator needs to catch the prey on which it feeds: Stalkers aren't any different, indeed.

Up and along the steps the shadow treads, careful and wary to be soundless. Not a noise is to be made, or else a month's worth of plans will be put to waste.

On the rocking bench she sleeps so peacefully with her curls cascading down her neck, ivory skin glowing ethereally. She is being watched, that much she might suspect.

Beside her the dog, now awake, fondly wags his tail at his delight upon seeing a familiar face. He was given a pat on the head, then was disregarded.

Sophie is being awfully quiet. How about a seal, to put her to a test?

One look at an angel, and a devil's fallen under a spell.

Above and over her the shadow looms to bid sweet dreams.

The uninvited guest gives her one kiss; silence is pierced by screams.

A cloak of darkness sweeps past the light and flees into the night.

It wanders home alone: It is odd to be outside on a night so cold.

…

Sophie has a secret that everyone wants to know. The suspense is killing them, and her as well, in a way so excruciatingly slow. She sees too many shadows so shy that reveal themselves only at the corner of her eye. She can't trust her brain: She thinks she's going insane.

Let's summarize what she's been through; any rumors that are true.

The other day she accidentally bumped into a girl with a red dress, who was outraged and spilled her juice on purpose and made Sophie a mess.

What followed was, that same rude girl didn't show up at school. They claimed she was out sick, but Sophie wasn't a fool. A boy who played the cello for the band came up to her and demanded her to tell what she'd done to his girlfriend. Sophie said that nothing happened. The irritated boy gave her a bruise that would take weeks to mend.

After that there were talks about Billy Oscar, the musician who didn't come home the night prior. According to the rumors, he'd been found that morning in the art wing, face covered with thick paint coat concealing the wounds from an awful beating.

And then it was PE day. Sophie ran a mile, along with a bunch of girls in single file, but halfway to the finish, she was tripped by Trish, who was tying her shoelaces.

Nothing happened that day. At least nothing got in the way. It seemed like cruel fate was taking a break.

Don't you think it's weird, though, how in the beginning I told you nobody else knew about the shadow? So how on earth do you think I, a lowly storyteller, can possibly know? Unless, of course, I tricked you, too; I was just under your nose.

Who do you think lurks in the darkness? How come you aren't curious as to how I recount these moments? Would any other person tell you this account truthfully? They would, if they _really_ played a part in the story. From the very start I was being strangely anonymous to you, only to tell a story that might or mightn't be true.

I love Sophie, in the realest form of regard. I mustn't simply let her get away without acknowledging my existence; what she does to meby just being herself, what I do for _her_, blissfully unaware that I'm sticking my neck out for her sake when I'm just this stupid _stranger_.

This night I'm taking a risk: I bet you need only guess what day it is.

She can't pretend that after everything I'd done, something's amiss.

I'll reveal myself to her; we'll be friends; she'll love me in return…and not resist.

She _has _to love me: It's a promise.

…

The door is being opened wide, covering what's on the other side. She steps into the room, tentatively at first, then decided the coast was clear…

…until a sound from behind made her heart burst. Sophie stays where she stands, fiddling with her hands. "I can hear you."

I don't fidget, but I don't budge either.

"How do you get in?"

She used '_do_': That's in present tense. She knows I haven't been here just once. Of course she isn't dense. "I get in through the window you always leave open."

I wait until Sophie says something. "How come my parents didn't see you?"

At this, I smile. White teeth gleams from the darkest corner of the room, a Cheshire grin resembling an upside crescent moon. So now she's been lying, too. "They're at the conference that you told them to come to."

"Our dog's right at the porch, but Ginger didn't make a sound." Is that what she named the hound? I think it's time for the revelation: I hope she doesn't mind if I drag this conversation. "In case you might've missed it, 'Ginger' is actually a gift."

"Is that what you call the kisses?"

"Think of them as, ah, just business."

At last, she whirls around, just as I lay my hands on her shoulders. She flinches at the contact, but presses herself closer. "Why do you do this?" I stare into her deep, dark eyes that contrast with her light blonde hair. She whispered, "…You were everywhere."

"If I wasn't, would I even be here?"

She lets me stroke her curls, but I do it gently. "What did you do to Trish?"

"Nothing that you didn't expect," I say, then lift up her chin. Unsurprisingly, she smiles. "You're being too obvious."

"Not as much as you," I murmur, then she grabs my hair and pulls me into a kiss.

Sophie has a stalker.

Nobody believes her** because she kept it a secret.**

He'll tail her everywhere** because she let him.**

And it's become a nightmare** because she's starting to like it.**

**...**

**FULL AUTHOR'S NOTE IN PROFILE**


End file.
